


A Dark and Stormy Night

by BookMonsterEliz



Category: White Collar
Genre: Angsty Schmoop, Cuddling & Snuggling, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Neal is an idiot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-30
Updated: 2015-04-21
Packaged: 2018-02-06 19:27:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1869612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BookMonsterEliz/pseuds/BookMonsterEliz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set at the end of season 5, Neil feels like shit. He landed his bff in prison. He wants to apologize to El, but he's afraid.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Neal paced nervously outside the entrance of the Burke’s home. It was late, well past one in the morning and he was absolutely wrecked. He twisted his fedora in his hands as he looked up towards the one room that still had a light on, Peter and Elizabeth’s room. Elizabeth was awake, had just come back from her third trip to the kitchen for water in the past hour.   
Neal contemplated knocking on the door. He walked up, raised his hand, and with a growl of frustration slunk away to stand in the shadows once more. This was all his fault. Peter was in jail for murder. James Caffrey was long gone. He’d used his son and left. Neal slammed his hand into the tree in frustration and sunk to the ground, head in his hands. He’d been conned, used against his best friend, and he’d never seen it coming. He was one of the best conmen in New York City, how had this happened to him? He’d had such dreams about his father, such delusions of grandeur, an now the only other man in his life that cared for him other than Mozzie was about to pay for his foolishness, for his Father’s crime.   
He wiped his eyes and dove for the bushes when the Burke’s front door opened. He’d failed to notice the living room light turn on. From his hiding place, he risked a look and saw Elizabeth outlined in the warm light, arms wrapped tightly around her chest.   
“Neal, I know you’re out here. Come in.” She called out softly.   
He stayed still, breathing as softly as he could.  
“Please. I need you.” the words were broken, and went straight to his heart.   
Neal dusted off his fedora and stood, stumbling towards the light. El smiled at him as he reached her, a small thing; the corners of her mouth barely moving up, her eyes registering both pain and a touch of relief, new wrinkles of worry marring her face. She locked the door behind them and Neal shuffled from one foot to the other, nervously waiting for her to look up at him, afraid of her rejection, not sure if he should open his mouth, knowing that if he did a stream of apology and regret would come out.   
He melted a little, his shame burning brighter and his words dying on his lips when she did look up at him, tears glistening in her eyes. For her part, her heart broke a little more at the sight of Neal, broken spirited an disheveled, hair askew, vest torn,   
“Oh, Neal. Look at you. Look at us.” Elizabeth murmured.  
Any reply was stopped like a freight train when Elizabeth stepped forward and hugged him, sobs wracking her small frame. He wrapped his arms around her, hands moving in soothing circles on her back, muttering soft shushing sounds into her hair. He ignored the tears falling from his own eyes and put his heart into his reassurances.  
“We’ll find a way out of this El. We’ll get Peter out. He’s innocent. They have to know that. I’ll d whatever I have to do to prove it. I promise El, we’ll get him back.”  
“I know. We have to.”  
They stood that way for a long time, wrapped around each other, drawing strength from the other, hearts focused on their beloved Peter.   
Finally, Elizabeth pulled away.   
“You ok?” Neal murmured softly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear and out of her face.   
“No, but I’m better.”   
“Ok. I’m sorry, El. I really am. I tried to make James confess, but he wouldn’t. He, he used me and now he’s gone, but I’m not going to let him get away with this. I’m going to fix it, I promise.”   
“I know you will. We will. Together.” She patted his arm, eyes tired but determined.   
Neal felt his heart lift a little, mind racing towards courses of action. He would free Peter, by hook or crook. Mozzie would help, he knew, and having El in on it was good.  
“First let’s get some sleep.” El’s words broke through to him, reminding him of his tiredness.  
“I’ll see you around then.” Neal said wearily.   
“Neal. I need you.” Her eyes were full as she looked up at him, open windows to her soul. “Stay, please.”  
“Peter…”  
“Will understand. I can’t sleep here alone, Neal, not now. I’ll lose my mind.”  
“Alright.” Neal said, mustering a small smile, relieved mot to have to spend the night alone either.  
“Besides, I wouldn’t want you to catch a cold sleeping in my bushes.”   
He protested, and she teased back, both of them trying to lighten the mood as Elizabeth poured them glasses of water and they made their way up the stairs and into her room. He’d been there before, mostly uninvited. He knew instantly why El had wanted him to stay, had firmly told him no when he’d moved towards the spare room. He could feel Peter’s absence heavily in this room, with one of his ties sticking out of his dresser, his cologne scenting the room. Neal slipped into the bathroom to relieve himself and wash his face. There he noticed the two toothbrushes sitting in the holder, the two razors sitting on the bathtub ledge, one pink, one black, and the pair of dark blue slippers waiting by the door. He sighed and shrugged out of his shirt, folding it neatly before adding his belt and pants.   
The bedroom was dark when he reentered it, but he easily found his way to the bed. Elizabeth was settled in what he’d identified as Peter’s side of the bed, and she patted what was normally her pillow, encouraging him to join her. He felt odd in the Burke’s bed. On one hand it was comforting, soft and inviting, smelling of Elizabeth and Peter, of love and home. On the other hand it felt daring, wrong. Peter wasn’t there, wasn’t there because of him. Neal didn’t feel that he deserved this sense of safety and love, not after what he’d done.  
“Hey, stop thinking so loudly, Neal.” El said, reaching a hand out to run gentle fingers through his hair. “It’s not your fault, Neal. I know you wouldn’t have purposefully done this to Peter. You love him too much.”   
“Yes, but I should have seen it coming though, I should have. . .”  
“No. Enough. Sleep.” Elizabeth commanded, snuggling close, allowing him to wrap his arms around her.   
She sighed, a tear leaking out, as she nuzzled into his chest, and they were both quiet, lulling each other to sleep listening to the other’s deep, purposeful breathing.


	2. A Steady Hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that was going to be a one shot. Nope. I have a whole short story worming it's evil way through my brain. I'm terribly busy but I'm wanting to write more, and this is great writing practice. Holler if you want more! Also, while this is def my ot3, this isn't my most well versed fandom, so squint at mistakes, ok?

El woke up slowly, the sun streaming uncomfortably onto her pillow, her neck a little sore and at an odd angle. She grunted and pulled in, burrowing deeper into the covers, head feeling like it had been sat on by a ton of elephants. She tried to drift back into the land of the unconscious, but her bladder, and a nagging sense of wrongness, wouldn’t let her. Slowly she opened her eyes, blinking confusedly at the odd angle of the room before everything spun into place, leaving her reeling. She was on Peter’s side of the bed. Her husband, Peter Burke, who was currently in prison for murder.   
Her eyes clenched shut with the pain, the impossibility of it. When she opened them again, to the emptiness of the room, its wrongness struck her again as she noticed her own pillows, strewn across her side of the bed, empty, but slept in. 

Neal.

He’d been there for her, the night before. She’d been sitting numbly in her room when she’d heard him pacing outside, saw him shrink away from her door. Diana had called, asked if she was ok, said they’d traced Neal’s tracker to her place and would come collect him. El hadn’t wanted to be alone, so she’d told Diana no, and invited him in to keep the demons of the night at bay. And now he was gone.

El sighed, disappointed. She shook her head at herself. She really hadn’t expected him to stay the night. Neal was a runner. El knew that. That he’d let her pull him into her bed, Peter’s bed, at all spoke volumes about his emotional state. 

With first one cold foot and then the other, El pulled herself out of bed, and into the bathroom, eyes bleary and head pounding, refusing to take in her surroundings, to acknowledge Peter’s absence. 

She threw back some aspirin and pulled on some jeans and an old, soft tshirt before stumbling down the stairs. Halfway down, she heard the sounds in the kitchen and grabbed a candlestick as she cautiously inched her way towards the landing. There she shot a stealthy look at her burglar in the mirror on the far wall. 

He was long and lean, bending over to dig in the bottom drawer of the fridge, showing off a fine rear end, a pair of Peter’s dark plaid boxers dripping off his hips, showing a bit too much of that pert bottom.

“Neal.” Elizabeth breathed with a sigh, sheepishly setting the candlestick down. 

“Good morning.” she announced her presence softly as she entered the room.

Neal whirled out of the fridge, a warm smile spreading across his face as he brushed a few damp, dark strands of hair out of his face. 

“Hi. Hungry?” he asked, setting the scallions down on the counter and grabbing a knife from her collection before expertly chopping them and tossing them into the skillet of half scrambled eggs.

“No.” she said, reaching for the proffered cup of coffee. 

Her stomach’s rumble made her a liar. Neal, thankfully, didn’t comment, just took another sip of his own coffee and flipped the bacon on the stove. A few sips of the coffee helped wash away the sour taste from her mouth and settle her tense stomach. She finally decided it was a shame to waste food, especially food that was so expertly cooked for her. Once she had a bite she was glad she’d given in. 

El was spearing the last chunk of egg with her fork when her phone rang. It was Peter’s lawyer, asking her come down to the office to look over some papers, and then to the prison to see Peter. White knuckled, willing herself to be strong, she agreed. With a shaky breath she headed up the stairs to dress while Neal cleaned the dishes. 

She felt robotic as she moved around her closet. She pulled a blouse off the hanger, looked at it, and hung it up again, feeling empty. Her mind was not on the soft pink fabric it was on Peter. What was he wearing? Was he comfortable? How was she going to make them know he couldn’t possibly have done it. Not her Peter. Somehow, she got dressed, mechanically combed her hair, brushed her teeth. 

She sat at her makeup table and picked up her foundation, hand shaking as she handled the soft brush. El stopped and stared at her uncontrollably shaking hand, clenching her eyeliner as the rest of the room swayed. 

“El, what is it? Are you ok?” Neal asked, suddenly filling her doorway, suit jacket slung casually over his shoulder.

“Yes, no.” She set the pencil down and looked up at him, eyes wide. “The lawyer called. I’m going to see him, and Peter…”

In a moment Neal was at her side, taking her hands in his own, concerned. He’d had his moment of shock, and with a pang he realized that he’d forgotten that she’d hadn’t had hers yet.

“Hey, hey, don’t pass out on me, El. It’s ok. You can do this. He’s innocent. We’ll get him out of there.” Neal soothed, gently stroking her arm, trying to ground her in the here and now. 

“You’re right,” Elizabeth’s eyes blazed fire when she opened them, “Peter is innocent. He is NOT going to stay in prison.”

“There, that’s more like it. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise, El. You go see that lawyer, and I’m going to have a chat with Mozzie. One way or another, we’re getting him out.” 

El smiled down at him, a wobbly smile with false bravado, and Neal gently squeezed her arm. 

“Come on; let’s get that eyeliner on strong and fierce.” Neal said as he picked up the black pencil.

Neal lost himself in her smooth skin and the collection of paints before him as El steeled herself for the day ahead, feeling very grateful that she was not alone after all.


	3. prison visit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> El visits Peter, crying happens

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for typos or crappy formatting, doing this on my phone

"Oh, Peter, hunny." Elizabeth said, resisting the urge to sob from both relief and sadness. Peter sat behind the wide metal table, hands chained to it's center. He lit up when she entered the room, relaxing like a thirsty man who's seen water. "El. Oh, it's so good to see you." The lump in her throat made it hard to respond, so she just circled the table and hugged him tight, kissing him tenderly. He couldn't return her hug, but he returned the kiss, leaning his forhead against hers when they broke apart. "Shhh, it's ok hunny, it's ok." Peter murmered, longing to wrap his arms around her crying form. El took a deep, shuddering breath, steadying herself, before placing a gentle kiss on his cheek and moving to sit in the uncomfortable metal chair across from her husband. She carefully wiped her eyes. "I told myself I wasn't going to cry." El sniffled. "It's alright, join the club." "Well, thank God for waterproof makeup." She said, forcing a smile, "How are you holding up?" "It's hard El, but I'll be ok. No one in prison likes an FBI agent, so they've had me in special containment. It's not too bad, sparce but clean. It's lonely. I miss you." "I miss you too, Peter. We're going to get you out of here." "El, leave it to the lawyers. I don't need you, or Neal, in here too. I know it looks bad, but I'm innocent. They're going to prove that." "You were holding the smoking gun, Peter. You really think they're going to be rooting for you?" "Yes, I do, El. I believe in this justice system, and that includes innocent until proven guilty. I didn't do it. They're looking for Neal's father. He's the better suspect." "But what if they don't find him? What if the jury doesn't believe you? I hate seeing you in here, Peter. I know you didn't do it, but will they?" She asked, eyes wide. "I don't know what's going to happen, El, but I have to believe that they'll make the right choice. I have to have faith in my department. They'll find him." he squeezed her hand, but his smile did not reach his eyes. "I miss you." another tear rolled down her face. "I miss you too." A banging knock sounded on the door, and the guard yelled that they had two minutes left. "Is there anything I can do, anything I can bring you?" El asked, rising to come hug him again. "No, just yourself. Please, don't try to worry too much. This is going to be hard, and I know you're here for me El, but I don't want this to hurt you more than it has to. I'll be home." "Oh, Peter. I love you." she said with a kiss. "I love you too, more than you know." "I know. Me too."


End file.
